


Of All the Hotel Room Doors in the World, You Had to Knock on Mine

by Himizu_chan



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, andy is shirtless, early morning workout, patrick is annoyed, pete just wants to sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 13:54:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20009383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Himizu_chan/pseuds/Himizu_chan
Summary: Andy wants to get in an early-morning workout while the band is on tour. But first, he wants to annoy the heck out of Patrick. Pete just wants to keep being asleep.





	Of All the Hotel Room Doors in the World, You Had to Knock on Mine

Andy woke up with adrenaline humming in his veins. Normally the night after a show (followed by spending quality time with some attractive women) was further followed by a lazy morning, but Andy couldn’t stay in bed this morning. Carefully extricating himself from the tangle of limbs in the king-sized hotel bed, he quickly put on a pair of form-fitting gym shorts, socks, and tennis shoes, then crept out of the room before the women in his bed woke up.

Down in the coffee shop in the hotel lobby, Andy kept a patient smile at his face as the young barista gaped helplessly at him, unable to even begin entering his order into the register. He mentally scolded himself for not bothering to put on a shirt, but the band was touring, and he wore shirts as rarely as he could get away with.

Beverages acquired, Andy headed back upstairs. He bypassed Joe’s room, remembering the last time he’d tried to wake the other man early for a workout the morning after a show. Andy didn’t typically listen to threats, but Joe had been oddly specific about all the different types of accelerant he’d use to make sure that Pete’s blowtorch guitar (seriously, who the fuck gave that guy a blowtorch guitar?) reduced Andy’s drumkit to ashes. Best not to chance it.

Stopping in front of the correct door, Andy shifted his grip on the drinks, then knocked. For a solid minute, the door remained closed, and Andy was about to reach out to knock again. But the door finally opened to reveal Patrick, or at least Andy assumed it was Patrick. The other man was in the process of shrugging on a crumpled white undershirt, and his face was not yet visible.

Finally figuring out how to get his head through the correct hole in the shirt, Patrick yanked the fabric down into place, brushing a little at his equally wrinkled boxer shorts. If Andy had to guess, he’d assume that the clothes had spent the night in a heap on the hotel room floor, but he wasn’t going to ask any questions to see if he was right. Patrick then slipped his glasses into place before finally trying to identify the visitor to his hotel room door.

“Andy?”

“Morning, Pat,” Andy said with an obnoxiously smarmy grin that he knew would irritate the other man. Sure enough, Patrick’s eyes narrowed.

“What do you want? It’s… early.”

“Yep,” Andy agreed, popping the “p” a little just to see if Patrick could narrow his eyes even more (he could!). “Perfect time of day for a workout!”

“Good… for… you?”

“And you should come work out with me,” Andy continued before taking a sip of his vegan protein shake. Definitely a good idea to stay hydrated for the upcoming explosion.

“Absolutely not!” Patrick exclaimed. “You woke me up to ask if I’d come work out with you? Seriously?”

“I did,” Andy agreed. “Come on, man, working out once in a while would be good for you.”

“What are you implying? That I need to work out?” Patrick huffed, crossing his arms.

Andy pretended to think that over. But before he could answer, Patrick moved to close the door. Andy stuck his foot into the doorjamb just in time to prevent the door from closing. “Hey now, we’re having a conversation here!”

“No, you’re being a dick. How dare you come and wake me up just to tell me that I’m out of shape and need to work out with you? Just because some of us don’t have chiseled pecs…”

“These pecs did not chisel themselves, Pat.”

Patrick shoved harder at the door, but Andy refused to let his foot be dislodged.

“Come on, bro, it’s leg day! I’ll go back to the coffee shop and get you one of these protein shakes! They’re veeeeeegan,” he added in a sing-song voice, waving the cup back and forth in front of Patrick’s eyes.

“Get your fucking health nut shit out of my face,” Patrick growled. He backed away from the door, and Andy took the opportunity to push it open further. He regretted it immediately because Patrick had stepped back into the room, seized an open bag of Cheetos, and thrown a handful at the now-open doorway. Andy frowned down at the orange dust sprinkled on his tattoos.

“That was uncalled for. But you’re kind of proving my point, look at this processed crap. You really eat this junk?”

“Cheetos are delicious, fuck off.”

“Just come down to the gym,” Andy wheedled, taking a step into the room. Another Cheeto struck his sternum, but he ignored it. “Nothing intense, maybe a run on the treadmill for some cardio and a few weights. You don’t even have to get dressed, no one will care if you go down like that.”

“Get out of my room,” Patrick snapped. “I’m not working out with you, everyone’s going to assume you’re like my personal trainer or something, and I’m not about that life. Now get out and let me go back to sleep.”

“But Paaaaaaat.”

“NO!”

“Pat!”

“LEAVE!”

“Patty Pat Pat Pat.”

“Go wander around the lobby shirtless and find another woman to take back to your bedroom.”

“Can’t, the ones from last night are still there. It’s not polite.”

“Oh my god,” Patrick muttered, nudging his glasses up his forehead to rub at his eyes.

Andy was about to press further when his attention was caught by the bed. To the casual observer, it had appeared empty when Andy had entered the room; but now there was movement, like some ancient leviathan was being roused from slumber. The pillows parted like the Red Sea, the sheets slid away in slow-motion, and the dark head and skinny shoulders of the last band member appeared.

Patrick winced as he also caught the movement, and he shot Andy an accusing look. Andy just shrugged. Patrick could have come with him and avoided the problem altogether.

Pete shifted some more, the sheet sliding further down, exposing more of the pale expanse of his shoulders and back, finally pooling just above his waist. One hand came up to scrub at his face before brushing back sleep-mussed hair before Pete finally braced himself on one elbow and turned to face the rest of the room.

“Pat?” he croaked out, voice still heavy with sleep.

“Hey Pete,” Patrick muttered, sounding a bit sheepish. “Sorry, did we wake you?”

“Mmm,” Pete grunted, then squinted. “Andy?”

“Morning,” Andy said, pulling out his chipper tone from earlier. “I brought you some coffee,” he added, waggling the other cup a little, wondering how much effort it would take to coax Pete from the bed in this state.

Pete shifted consideringly, but one hand came to rest on the sheets, fiddling with the material. Patrick took a quick step forward, snatching the cup from Andy’s hand, and moving close enough for Pete to be able to grab the cup. Pete finally shifted fully around so that he was sitting up in bed, and he grabbed the cup with a nod of thanks that could have been directed at either of the men in the room. The movement somehow managed to expose at least three inches of bare thigh, not that Andy was measuring or anything, but it was kind of easy to notice.

“I guess I know better than to ask you if you want to come work out,” Andy said, directing the question to Pete this time.

“Not on your life,” Pete muttered into the coffee cup. “Now, could you please leave? I’m going back to sleep. Pat’s not going with you either. He’s coming back to bed.”

Patrick looked relieved by this development. Andy frowned. “It wouldn’t hurt him to work out once in a while.”

“I know,” Pete agreed, ignoring Patrick’s offended squawk. “But not today.”

Andy sighed. “I’m going to keep asking, you know. We’re on the road for quite a while, and one of these mornings, he’s going to say yes.”

“We’ll both go one day,” Pete agreed, and Patrick looked a little bit mollified that at least he wouldn’t be suffering alone. “But…”

“Not today, got it. You guys are busy, you have plans, whatever,” Andy sighed, taking another drink of the protein shake. “I’m not going to let you forget that you promised that you’d work out with me one day though. This better not be a stalling tactic.”

“It’s not,” Pete assured him. “Besides…” he added, a tiny smirk appearing on his face, “it’s not like Pat never gets exercise.”

Patrick’s eyes narrowed. “At the concerts?” he finally asked cautiously.

Pete sighed. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Sensing the change in the atmosphere (it would have taken an idiot not to notice, and Andy was no idiot), the drummer decided it was time to actually head to the gym. But he couldn’t resist a parting shot. “Any exercise on the docket for today?”

Patrick’s brow furrowed. “We do have a concert tonight. That’s what you guys mean, right?”

Pete set the coffee cup aside. “Now that you mention it, I do think some cardio might be in order right now, since we’re both awake.” And he reached out to grab Patrick’s wrist, pulling him towards the bed in a way that there could be no mistaking his intentions.

Job done, Andy left them to it and went to go work out. If the women were still there when he got back, he was ahead of schedule enough that he could go for a second round and still have time for a shower before they left for the next city. He loved being on the road with this band.


End file.
